Memento
by asobi seksu
Summary: Some people come and go in different directions.


a/n: Ramble ahoy. People liked "Snow" and I like Takasugi so here is the word vomit.

* * *

"We used to be friends."

"Correct. We used to," he replies with a smile that scares Gintoki more than him flying into a rage.

Somehow there is nothing to say that could ever reach the other man's ears. His mind screams - _say something, anything_ - but it is futile. Nothing makes sense. He is tired. Very tired. Takasugi walks away and there is a sense of finality about the entire affair.

-x-

"He's been hiding," Katsura said. They're sitting at a dingy inn with scruffy sheets and surrounded by other men who haven't seen the sight of a hot meal in months.

Gintoki bandages his feet and makes sure that his wounds are wrapped securely. "He hasn't forgiven me, has he."

"I wouldn't think so," the other man said slowly.

This is the last time they mention him willingly in a discussion. The disintegration of a relationship always has begun with reluctance to talk about it. Suddenly the subject of Takasugi Shinsuke has suddenly become taboo.

If either Sakamoto or Katsura notice anything, it's none of his business.

-x-

A few months later Otose asks Gintoki where he came from and how was he so strong. Gintoki shrugs and asks for a drink. She obliges, carefully pouring him another when he asks. And another. And another.

"You're not charging for this?"

"No of course not," she reassures him.

He can hold his drink better than most men and she suspects that he's had quite a bit of experience. Figures. Cheap sake is cheap sake though and Gintoki doesn't discriminate between free and expensive alcohol in the first place.

He finally gives up sometime - maybe around the third bottle she was meaning to throw out anyway - and lays his head into his arms. Otose smiles and thinks he'll wake up with a killer headache tomorrow. She pats his head and to her surprise his hair is soft and silky.

He turned his head sideways to look at her. Whoops. Maybe she shouldn't have done that so soon, should have waited until he started snoring.

"T'day's was s'posed to be my friend's birthday," he mumbles sleepily.

"Where is your friend?"

"Gone. Not my friend anymore." He apologizes to someone she doesn't know. "My fault. I gave up too soon. Abandoned him. Too goddamn soon. Thought he'd understand. Thought he knew when it was all over."

Otose bites her lips. She doesn't know what's wrong but like all good bartenders she knows there are sorrows that ruminate in the back of everybody's mind. She pats Gintoki's hair, stubs out her cigarette, and pours her honorary son another drink.

-x-

The Yakult is located next to the strawberry milk in the convenience store. Gintoki walks two more blocks to a vending machine and never visits that establishment again.

-x-

The Shinsengumi - bunch of cowards, he thinks to himself - have posted a WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE poster near the garbage bin and combustibles alley next to Otose's Snack House. He figures it's some petty bullshit until he looks up out of boredom.

Takasugi Shinsuke. Commander of the Kiheitai. Worth a plot of land and then some from the Shogunate itself.

The rumble of shock that runs through Gintoki doesn't even hurt that much anymore. He's just - numb, really. Indifferent. Katsura is busy building up the remains of the Jouishishi movement, hunting up the last straws of protest. Sakamoto is in space doing God-knows-what. All four of them are going mad in their own way. Gintoki does nothing; decides he likes being aimless for once in his life and stays in the loft above Otose's bar. Likes the emptiness of it and consequently gets fired from every job some sucker hired him for.

At this point, he thinks, who gives a shit? He tears the poster, crumples it up, and tosses it into the garbage. If it's out of loyalty, well, at least he can't say he's given up on Takasugi yet.

Sometimes it seems like Japan has moved on without him and he's still got one foot stuck in the past.

-x-

Meeting Shinpachi reminded him of the new soldiers that'd join out of spite because their parents wanted bigger and better things for them. They were like fish out of water in the battlefield, unsure of what to do. Fools, all of them.

He throws the kid a bone, because hell, he looks even more pathetic than Gintoki. The world doesn't need samurais anymore, not in this day of guns and bazookas. Still, he roughs around the Amanto for fun and complains that his parfait is ruined. He snickers when Shinpachi is caught and arrested by the police.

In retrospect, handing over the Yorozuya business card to the Shimuras was one of the best decisions he ever made.

-x-

Kagura is another kid who's grown up too fast. He doesn't sense this at first, but there are hints. For one thing, he's never seen a kid enjoy plain rice and eggs as much as she does. It reminds him of the first day he set foot in Shoyou-sensei's temple where he was amazed to see children his own age have three meals and a bath - hot water, even! - every day. The kids had made fun of him for how fast he scarfed down the food but he couldn't help it back then. You had to eat fast or the scarecrows would snatch the meat out of your hands.

Sometimes he'll make extra miso soup and takes even more time to prepare side dishes. Even though Kagura sucks in all the food without noticing any difference in taste, he hopes the extra nutrition might've made up for any neglect in the past.

-x-

Something has fundamentally changed in Takasugi. The cool slip of a blade touches Gintoki's kimono while the civilians watch the sky bloom with multi-shimmering colors. This was something never done with killing intent. Takasugi might have pulled a sword once when Gintoki cheated one too many times in a game of UNO but this -

This is different. He turns away, grabs his blade with his bare hand, and coolly addresses the man who is no longer a friend or ally.

-x-

A week later after the festival, Gintoki spills ramen onto Shoyou's old notebook.

He throws it away.

-x-

The sad fact is that Gintoki actually enjoys encountering the Shinsengumi more than he'd cared to admit. Kondou is one hell of a man 5% of the time and a big fat loser for the rest of it. Mitsuba was too lovely for words and apparently this earth too. Yamazaki gets along suspiciously well with Shinpachi. Okita reminds him of the same old teenager he was ten years ago on the battlefield, aching for action and mischief - and as for Hijikata -

He stops because another man flashes in his memory from years ago and it is sudden.

Takasugi used to endure his insults once upon a time. Yet Hijikata Toushirou and not Takasugi Shinsuke has taken over the "friend-enemy" spot that is lodged permanently in between scorn and grudging tolerance. Instead of disparaging someone along the lines of Yakult and Napoleonic height and boys with rich parents, his insults have shifted to mayonnaise-related terms and dog food items.

They're two different people, he tries to convince himself. He doesn't believe it.

-x-

He's planning something, Gintoki thinks.

But he forgets because life passes by too fast, and if he lingers on the past, it is only for a second.

-x-

The destruction of Edo Terminal comes with flames and death and a bone-wearing heat.

"Shall we fight?" Takasugi bares his fangs with glittering malice.

Even though Gintoki has declared him as no longer a friend, the boy who used to recite Confucius comes back so strongly to him, with his bored expressions and pine green eyes.

Fifteen years of estrangement has led to this. He fights the urge to go on his knees and beg Takasugi to become sane again. Then maybe they'd go to a convenience store and he'd get a strawberry-chocolate parfait and Shinsuke would order a Yakult-flavored milkshake and start talking.

"Takasugi . . . "

"Don't you _dare_ go easy on me just because I have one eye."

The illusion snaps, shatters into a million pieces again.

Neither of them have gotten weaker even if both have aged. Takasugi is a formidable enemy. He knows Gintoki's improvisation style like the back of his hand. He fights with the desperation of a thousand _shihei_ warriors. Cuts and nicks start piling up on Gintoki's body. It is a slow death. Gintoki can't muster the energy to do anything more than to defend himself.

"What's wrong, Shiroyasha?" The taunting never flicks any anger within Gintoki. He can only think of how crushed Shoyou-sensei would be right now with two of his best students fighting like barbarians in the capital of the Amanto.

He says nothing and it only spurs Takasugi even further. _How sad_, he thinks.

In the end his old friend pins him to the ground with a dagger to his throat. "Your last words, Gintoki. What do you have to say?"

A stream of blood rolls down his mouth. He wants to say something about the Yorozuyas and how they taught him to find love and forgiveness. He wants to say thank you to the Shinsengumi for keeping the Amanto from destroying the humans in Japan. He wants to say goodbye to the inhabitants of Yoshiwara and the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life. He wants to visit the cabaret girls and trannies and Ikumatsu's ramen shop all over again. He still wants to watch another forecast of Ketsuno Ana's and walk Sadaharu and make fun of the Shogun and -

Something clicks and he realizes that he cannot let Takasugi, who remembers none of the warmth of life, take him away from all of this. Pity comes for the man beyond redemption.

"I loved you," Gintoki says softly, and for a second, Takasugi is taken aback by the absurdity of it.

"I don't - "

Gintoki stabs him in the chest, near the left side.

The life ebbs out of Takasugi slowly. The other demon closes his eyes and his world goes dark as his clothes are stained bright red.

-x-

"We were so worried. You slept for three days, Gin-chan!"

His head is groggy and he asks for a sip of something. Water. Yeah, he'll go with that.

Someone pushes the glass against his mouth and he takes a sip. God, he's tired. What the hell did he do last night -

It comes crashing in and suddenly he chokes on his drink. Coughs and sputters everywhere.

"Ugh, how gross!" Kagura says, but still comes and rubs off the spit from his chin with a clean towel. "Sorry 'bout that, Gin-chan."

He clears his throat and makes one request.

"Gimme a Yakult."

"Huh?"

"Yakult. Six-pack."

Shinpachi rises and goes out to the door, not one to question a man on his sickbed. Gintoki lays back and assures Kagura that he's fine, he feels a lot better than when he passed out. She figures that this will be the best time to cook him some porridge while Shinpachi is out and Gintoki chuckles. If there's any luck on his end she might not raid the rest of the pantry.

The other boy comes back and hands over a small package to Gintoki. He unwraps a bottle and takes a sip.

It still tastes disgusting after all these years. He drinks it anyways.

"Ah, Gin-san! W-why are you crying? Did I buy you a spoiled one?"

He shakes his head. Then he swallows the rest of the small bottle and asks for another one. He downs that one. And another. And another. All this time, tears run down his face like a leaky hosepipe.

Shinpachi leaves him alone for a few hours. Then the two of them check on him with a bowl of (cold) porridge.

"You all right?"

"Shinpachi, you didn't give him something funny to drink, did you?"

"Hell no! He just started crying after he drank that Yakult - I guess it must have been the medication from those doctors - "

Gintoki simply blinks and wipes his eyes. Smiles. Decides it's better to start from the beginning.

"Once upon a time, there was this boy I used to know . . . "

x x x


End file.
